


Reach You Now

by englandwouldfalljohn, OneBlueUmbrella (bigblueboxat221b), Saratonin



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 221B Ficlet, 5 Times, 5+1 Things, Also literal fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Gratuitous Presence of Kittens, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, mystrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-12 11:14:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 1,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29383986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/englandwouldfalljohn/pseuds/englandwouldfalljohn, https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigblueboxat221b/pseuds/OneBlueUmbrella, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saratonin/pseuds/Saratonin
Summary: Greg Lestrade has a soft spot for cats. His partner, Mycroft Holmes... does not. Five times that Gregory fostered kittens, one time that Mycroft adopted them. Each chapter is a 221b ficlet!
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Comments: 30
Kudos: 89





	1. No Kittens Allowed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [janto321 (FaceofMer)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/gifts).



> Happy Birthday, Mer! Here’s some Mystrade fluff. We hope it brightens your day!

Mycroft came home late one night after an unavoidable dinner with Alicia and the PM. He had a migraine the size of Wales and wanted to come home and crawl into bed with Gregory. The universe was playing a cruel joke, however. When he walked into the kitchen to start the kettle, he saw Gregory on the floor with two little fluffballs. Both were chasing after a feather that was on the end of a string attached to a long plastic stick. Gregory was smiling and laughing when the kittens fell over each other, literally, to get the feather. 

“No,” Mycroft said.

“Awe come on. They’ve been abandoned by mom and need a home,” Greg replied.

“I will not abide nasty cat litter in this house. Not to mention cat hair everywhere and the loss of furniture due to scratching.”

“Awe, Myc, but look at their faces.” Gregory picked up the kittens and brought them close to Mycroft’s face. One of them got very close and started sniffing at his nose and then flicked out a tiny tongue to lick at the tip of it. 

“I have a migraine, I’m going to bed. I mean it when I say no.”

“I’ll make sure you two find a loving home,” Gregory told the kittens. 

Greg cuddled them before following Mycroft to bed.


	2. Anything But That

Leather seats were cool against Mycroft’s neck as he sat in the sedan and waited. Had it been anyone else playing so fast and loose with his time, he would undoubtedly have been selecting flowers to send to their proverbial funeral. But, of course, things were different when it came to Gregory. And hadn’t they always been? Forgiveness rolled off Mycroft when it came to his paramour, and he closed his eyes against the world for a moment, wondering what it must be like to give such benefits to the masses, as his beloved seemed so easily able to do. Despite all he had seen as an officer, all he continued to see as Detective Inspector, Gregory had not become the bitter, jaded figure that Mycroft inwardly feared himself to be. No, he retained that generosity of spirit, that abundance of virtue that must have been the light to which Mycroft was drawn all those many years ago.

He startled slightly as the door swung open, leaning across the seat to place a prim kiss to his lover’s mouth—nothing so untoward as those bloody make-out sessions his brother and Dr. Watson were always getting up to in the backs of cabs—and stopped short. There was an indistinct  _ mewling _ arising from Gregory’s jacket. 

‘No.’ He could forgive anything but that.  _ Tiny beasts. _


	3. Chapter 3

He couldn’t even see the tiny creatures, but the look in Greg’s eyes told Mycroft all he needed to know. Well, almost.

“How many?” he asked, shedding his jacket without taking his eyes from Greg.

“Three,” Greg replied from the floor.

“I see,” Mycroft said evenly.

“How long?”

“Not sure,” came the response.

“I see,” Mycroft said again. The whole exchange was surprisingly calm. Greg’s eyes were watchful as Mycroft crossed the sitting room, settling on the sofa, his knees pressing against Greg’s temple.

“You okay?” Greg asked.

Mycroft hummed, wondering how to answer that. Honesty was a given; he’d vowed to himself that while he might opt to keep some details from Gregory, he would not be untruthful. Distracted, his fingers started stroking Gregory’s grey hair as he thought.

“I believe so,” he said finally.

Gregory did not move, other than leaning into the touch. The silence was not the sharp, disappointed experience of Mycroft’s childhood; instead, it was soft and warm, enveloping them as they sat in the quiet.

“Where?” Mycroft murmured finally.

“The laundry,” Greg replied. “I know you hate the mess. They’re sleeping.”

Mycroft nodded, thinking. Despite the blatant breakage of their agreement – no more foster kittens without mutual agreement – Mycroft couldn’t bring himself to be cross.

Gregory’s consideration was enough to overshadow his transgression.

Just barely.


	4. Seeking: Agreement

Anthea placed Mycroft’s mid-morning tea on his desk next to a hair roller. Mycroft looked up questioningly. 

“You have some small hairs on the cuffs of your pants. I thought you’d like to remove them before your meetings.”

Mycroft rolled his eyes and mumbled his thanks for her forethought. It wasn’t that he hated them much anymore. Sure their claws were tiny knives that have put holes in more than one pair of trousers when they tried climbing up his legs. Yes, they’d had to reupholster Uncle Rudy’s favorite armchair. And despite their small size, they left a large odor in those boxes. 

But Gregory’s smile. His care of the small things. It’s brought out a bit of a youthful streak of his beloved. He thought that maybe Gregory wished he’d had a child or two with his ex-wife. Now in their later years, and with Mycroft’s comfort, peace, and joy in their lives without children, maybe he could abide them coming over for a few days until Gregory found their home.

They needed to come to an agreement. There needed to be something they could settle on so that there were no more surprises. 

When Greg arrived home that evening holding the one fluff, the smallest one yet. Mycroft sighed his resignation. 

Gregory said, “I do love you more, babe.”


	5. And Yet...

He should have been world-weary, exacerbated, or at least plain old annoyed. He should have found the four tiny balls of fur penned into a corner of the kitchen intrusive and unwelcome. He should have felt something other than the tenderness creeping up to warm his icy heart. 

‘They’ll be gone by morning.’

Mycroft could hear Gregory’s hands shoving into denim pockets. He could picture the lean of his right shoulder against the doorway. He wondered, when he turned around, what tone those ochre eyes would have taken on at the sight of him, the sight of these little creatures he inexplicably loved so well. 

‘No they won’t,’ Mycroft sighed. ‘That orange one will be the last to place. I’d give it three days at the least, possibly five. Call John Watson, one of the nurses at his clinic has been considering obtaining one of these creatures, she would easily be persuaded to take two.’

‘Alright. Thanks.’ Greg pushed off the door jamb and tentatively approached Mycroft from behind. ‘’S it ok if I…’

Mycroft tilted his neck sideways, wincing at the audible crack, then let his shoulders fall. Strong hands that had seen their share of the world landed on his trapezius, thumbs working firmly at his spine. Gregory’s idea to foster kittens was noble. Mycroft’s idea was even better.


	6. Chapter 6

The key in the lock grated across Mycroft’s nerves. He was ready, yet his fingers tightened as a familiar series of sounds filtered through from the entranceway. In his mind he could visualize the source of each sound.

_ Slams the door. Winces. Every time. _

_ Keys jangling onto the hook. _

_ Silence as coat hung up. _

_ Twin thuds of shoes off. _

_ Countdown until he saw the envelope… _

“Mycroft?”

“In the bedroom,” he replied, hearing his voice tremble.

Gregory appeared, the envelope tight in his hand. As Mycroft watched, his puzzlement melted into astonishment. Brown eyes tracked across Mycroft’s face to the bundles of fur nestled in the crook of his elbow.

“Myc?” Greg whispered again.

“They were supposed to be awake,” Mycroft replied, his voice both low and frustrated.

“Why?” Greg said. He finally raised his eyes to Mycroft’s, familiar and wide.

Mycroft nodded at the envelope, not wanting to wake the kittens.

Frowning, Greg tore at the gummed flap, glancing back at the kittens as he pulled out the papers inside. Mycroft watched as his eyes raked over the words, widening before reading them again.

“Adopted?” Greg gasped.

Mycroft nodded. “If you wish,” he murmured.

“Why?” Greg whispered again.

“We’ll need ring bearers,” Mycroft said. He swallowed, balancing the kittens as he lowered himself to one knee.

“Will you be my betrothed?” 


End file.
